20 Years To Go
by senseiawesome
Summary: Fang left three months ago. Max has been left in pieces. Still, she awaits that day, that day in 20 years when they will meet again. Set after the other epilogue in Fang. FAX.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Fanfiction I have deemed worthy of publishing.**

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. JAMES PATTERSON OWNS ALL OF THE CHARACTERS MENTIONED IN THIS STORY. THE TITLE MAY BE AN EXAGERATION, I DON'T KNOW YET (BUT PROBABLY IS)**

This story is set after the end of Fang: if Fang never came back. Well, I guess that means I have to start writing now.

Chapter 1

I gazed hazily at the ceiling. Once again. I guess this mean another sleepless night for me. I haven't had much sleep since _he _left. How could he think this was better for the flock? It's been three months and we've barely done anything. Surprisingly, no-one has decided we're worth killing yet. Maybe it's all to do with my hostile attitude towards everything. Then again, maybe it isn't.

I heard footsteps coming up to the door. This gave me a fright. Of course it did. I could've been an Eraser, an evil scientist or anyone/anything else in the long list of 'Things and People Who Hate Me', or so I thought hated me.

The door creaked open. It was mum. Valencia Martinez. She was one of the only great things about my life left. Other than the flock, that is. And my little half-sister, Ella. Come to think of it, the only thing I really lost in this mess was Fang. I felt like a lot more.

He was my best friend, right hand man, _soul mate. _I'd known him essentially for my whole existence. From when we were both locked up in dog crates to the day of the wedding: the day he left. He left leaving me a note. He had poured his whole existence into it. The love he felt for so many years.

"Hey Max," she said soothingly.

Just then, I burst into tears. I hated it when I did that, which has actually been happening quite a lot lately. I hated these fits of emotion. I was supposed to be a leader, yet I seemed so weak. I wasn't that fearless leader everyone used to see. I was just a mess, to put it simply.

"It's alright," she whispered, stroking my back. It reminded me of him. I stopped crying, but continued to sniff.

I was happy that I had found mum. I was happy that she cared about me and was the parent I looked my whole life for. On the other hand, there's my dad. I don't know what to think of him.

He rescued me from the School, but he turned of us. I want to trust him now, but I just can't. Not after what he did to me: To us.


	2. Chapter 2

By exaggeration in the last chapter, I meant writing about twenty years.

Despite the mess of my life, I enjoyed being back at mum's house. It was... comfortable. Iggy was cooking breakfast with mum, not like I would. I could smell the scrambled eggs. There was no quiet chatter around the table. Angel had taken an interest drawing for some reason. I guess images were all fascinating to her now in general. Nudge was reading a fashion magazine, not unusual at all. Gazzy had a scheming look on his face. He was clearly thinking. Ella looked quite solemn.

There seemed to me no interaction between them or me, other than occasional glances up at yours truly. Breakfast had been like this for a while. I knew everyone could hear me at night.

Then we heard a knock on the door.

"Jeb," Angel said.

It was my "father. I use that term very loosely. Angel was the youngest of the flock. She also seemed to have mutated to have the jackpot of special abilities. I suddenly had a flashback. I thought back to the days when Fang was still with us, when he discovered he could simply blend into his surroundings, when we both figured out we had developed gill. Why did everything remind me of him?

I got up and decided to go to the door.

I opened it reluctantly.

"Hello Jeb," I said in an angry tone giving him an undoubtedly unwelcoming look.

"Max. I'd just like to say I'm sorry. Can come in?" he asked.

"Jeb," mum called.

They spoke for a few minutes. I hoped this wasn't another idea for us. They surely knew I'd be against it. The others were going to school. I decided to stay here. I couldn't take school and mum accepted that. She's tried to teach me herself, but in this state, I couldn't do much learning.

Iggy came over with our breakfast: sausages, scrambled eggs, toast. I then had a though: an idea. I wouldn't really help with the whole 'forget about Fang' thing, but I could try.

"Nudge," I spoke up.

She turned towards he.

"Yeah, Max?" she asked.

"I need your help..."

We were on the laptop and typed in the URL of Fang's blog. It looked as if there were still several hundreds or thousands of people checking it daily. Unfortunately, it hadn't been updated in three months, since Fang left. We were going to log in to edit the blog.

Nudge was easily able to get in within a couple of minutes. His password was... I'm not saying that. Anyway, we were able to get in with his email and password. We clicked to publish a new post. Now, what were we going to tell the world?


	3. Chapter 3

NOTE: I am following the book format. I don't use Blogspot/Blogger. I use Wordpress and Tumblr

**You are reading Fang's Blog. Welcome!**

**You are visitor number: 3 **

If you're wondering why your visitor number seems VERY low, it's because I restarted it.

Hello followers of this blog, what was Fangs. This isn't Fang as some (or all) of you may expect. It's Max. I think Fang may have mentioned me on here before.

You may have noticed that this has lacked any new updates on the flock's progress in the past few months. Well, that's because... Fang left for the 'good of the flock'. So, I guess it's my turn to write. So, I guess I should start with what we're doing right now. Well, everyone else (minus Nudge who is looking over my shoulder) is eating breakfast. There really hasn't been much progress since Fang left. So far, no-one has decided that we're worth something and are tried to use us. Or kill us.

Wow, how does Fang do this? Sorry. Apparently, I'm not the blogging type. I guess I'll start with the REAL author's departure. He left this note. I'm not so sure if I should be sharing this online, but here it is.

"_Dear Max –  
You looked so beautiful today. I'm going to remember what you looked like forever. And I hope you remember me the same way – clean, ha-ha. I'm glad our last time together was happy.  
But I'm leaving tonight, leaving the flock, and this time it's for good. I don't know if I'll ever see any of you again. The thing is, Max, that everyone is a little bit right. Added up all together, it makes this big one right.  
Dylan's a little bit right about how my being here might be putting the rest of you in danger. The threat might have been just about Dr. Hans, but we don't know that for sure. Angel is a little bit right about how splitting up the flock will help all of us survive. And the rest of the flock is a little bit right about how when you and I are together, we're focused on each other – we can't help it.  
The thing is, Maximum, I love you. I can't help but be focused on you when we're together. If you're in the room, I want to be next to you. If you're gone, I think about you. You're the one I want to talk to. In a fight, I want you at my back. When we're together, the sun is shining. When we're apart, everything is in shades of gray.  
I hope you'll forgive me someday for turning our worlds into shades of gray – at least for a while.  
You're not at your best when you're focused on me. I mean, you're at your best Maxness, but not your best leaderness. I mostly need Maxness. The flock mostly needs leaderness. And Angel, if you're listening to this, it ain't you sweetie. Not yet.  
At least for a couple more years, the flock needs a leader to survive, no matter how capable everyone thinks he or she is. The truth is that they do need a leader, and the truth is that you are the best leader. It's one of the things I love about you.  
But the more I thought about it, the more sure I got that this is the right thing to do. Maybe not for you, or for me, but for all of us together, our flock.  
Please don't try to find me. This is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, besides wearing that suit today, and seeing you again will only make it harder. You'd ask me to come back, and I would, because I can't say no to you. But all the same problems would still be there, and I'd end up leaving again, and then we'd have to go through this all over again.  
Please make us go through this only once.  
I love you. I love your smile, your snarl, your grin, your face when you're sleeping. I love your hair streaming out behind you as we fly, with the sunlight making it shine, if it doesn't have too much mud or blood in it. I love seeing your wings spreading out, white and brown and tan and speckled, and the tiny, downy feathers right at the top of your shoulders. I love your eyes, whether they're cold or calculating or suspicious or laughing or warm, like when you look at me.  
You're the best warrior I know, the best leader. You're the most comforting mom we've ever had. You're the biggest goofball, the worst driver, and a truly lousy cook. You've kept us safe and provided for us, in good times and bad. You're my best friend, my first and only love, and the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, with wings or without.  
Tell you what sweetie: if in twenty years we haven't expired yet, and the world is still more or less in one piece, I'll meet you at the top of that cliff where we first met the hawks and learned to fly with them. You know the one. Twenty years from today, if I'm still alive, I'll be there waiting for you. You can bet on it.  
Good-bye my love.  
Fang  
P.S. Tell everyone I sure will miss them"_

It feels unusual reading that again. He left the day of Total and Akila's wedding. He left an hour before all of us, but when we arrived, he was gone. We're at my mum's house right now and have been for 3 weeks. People have deemed it safe. Everyone else (including Nudge this time) started going to school here two weeks ago. I just can't do it. I suppose we're going to be relocated to a safe house in the next few weeks anyway.

Anyway, before his upsetting departure, fang, well, I guess he 'died'. His heart stopped. It was some more experimentation by Doctor G-H. He aimed to make him better, like Dylan. There's also been no sign of him lately. We don't know if he eventually died, but I have a feeling he'll be back. I found a draft copy of the letter in a folder on our old laptop's desktop called "FangStuff". He seems to believe he belongs with us.

Jeb arrived a few minutes ago. I'm not sure what to think now. He was like a father to me and I wished he was. Then came the betrayal. Then I discovered he was my real father. A bit over three months ago, he literally 'took a bullet for us'. I wanted to trust him then, but I couldn't. Actually, I could. It was Fang's departure that made me think that.

I think Jeb's going to come speak to me soon. He's been glancing over at me through the whole conversation with my mum, so I'm going to end this here.

I'm sorry if this seemed disorganised and confusing, similar to me right now and I know you guys were probably looking forward to Fang. I'm sorry about that as well.

Oh, but there's one more thing. Fang, if you're reading this, or if you ever read this, I know you probably aren't going to come back, even with this message read, but I want you to know something. I think you already know this, but I love you. I promise I always will, but it's hard to let go if I can't stop thinking about you. See you in 19 years and 9 months.

Ummm... Fly on?

Max


	4. Chapter 4

**Auckland, New Zealand**

Fang moved the mouse up to the address bar. It was the first time he'd been on a computer since he left. He'd been travelling since then, trying to find others like him. If there were people (or mutants) like Dylan around, who knew what else he would find. He'd flown over the US with no success, so he moved on to Europe where he was almost killed. Apparently, people there were familiar with the bird kids and so he was chased through various countries before finally leaving the continent.

Now he was here, in New Zealand. He figured he come here before going back to the Northern Hemisphere. Plus, fewer people seemed to know of them here. Apparently, the media wasn't so focused on "bird kids", unlike everywhere else. So, this was probably the best spot to hide until he decided his next move with a new flock. He knew the Flock couldn't do anything with him and Max together. He missed her greatly, but this was for the best.

As he typed in the URL to his blog and logged in, he noticed something, a new blog post. From Max. He read through it. _What the heck?Why'd she publish my note? _He thought. He saw everything she thought, everything she felt. He knew what was happening to them now. Nothing. Why was everyone after him.

_Fang, think about it. Always remember to think first._

His voice. He had only heard it once before: The day he ran away. It said the same thing. He wasn't even sure if it was a "voice", like Max's and the one he thought Angel had. He wasn't sure what side this "voice" was on and had absolutely no idea what it indeed him to think about. Think first. He didn't even have an idea to think about yet? What was he going to do?

"Are you my voice?" he asked with a whisper.

_Yes, I am. I'm here to help you. Max is a mess now. Give her reassurance. Give her a bit of hope. She still has to save the world. So do you._

"Save the world," he whispered, almost inaudible to even him.

He moved the cursor up to the button to post a comment.

**From Me**

**I love you too Max. My voice will help us.**

He thought he could make it more cryptic, but it still had to convey a message: that he still going to help with the mission, no matter what happened, as long as he lived.

_Remember Angel._

Now his voice was getting annoying. Angel said he'd be the first to die. Why? He was worried again. Angel had never been wrong.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been four days since my blog post on Fangs blog. This 'blogging' was actually quite fun. The site stats were back up again with that last post. It was back in the hundreds of thousands. However thrilled I felt to see all of those people reading what I wrote, it wore off when I realised how many comments there were. I _was _going to ignore them, but Nudge said that it would be fun to read. For her. There were various questions posted to me such as _"FANG? IS THAT YOU OR IS IT REALLY MAX?" _ or things like ,_"OMG! R U GUYS DATING?". _Of course, some of the 'commenters' replied with things such as, "_NO YOU (censored) RETARD! DIDN'T YOU READ IT? FANG RAN AWAY TO 'HELP'."_

Honestly, even with all of the fans, there were many people there who hated each other. Then, I spotted something: the word 'voice'. In the four days of reading comments, there were several words that often popped out. 'Voice' was one. I hadn't heard from mine in ages. I supposed this was just someone else's opinion. I wasn't sure if Fang even bothered reading all of these. If he did, HOW?

**From Me**

**I love you too Max. My voice will help us.**

From Me? Who is this 'me'? Could it be Fang? The Voice? He has a voice now? I had seen many comments supposedly from 'Fang'. Obviously posers, but this one made me think. It was kind of cryptic. Not really, but it seemed like he wanted it to be. Was he coming back to help us? I scrolled through them again.

**From Me again**

**I haven't decided**

Haven't decided? Decided to what? Save the world without me? Come back?

"So, what're you doing?" Jeb asked.

This had startled me. I was too absorbed in the comment(s) to even hear his footsteps coming. Oh, yeah. Jeb stayed. He has a 'plan'. And another option. I was thinking it was Dylan. It probably was. I just have a feeling he isn't dead.

_It is. He's coming._

Angel told me. It was 10am. I guess _she _wasn't going to school today. Neither was Nudge. Come to think of it, Gazzy and Iggy were probably planning a huge stunt today. Pyromaniacs. Well, that was them. Plus, that had come in handy many times before, though I always wondered where they kept all of their explosives.

At this point I was just waiting for Jeb to finally tell me what Angel had just said. Then, I realised he was expecting my reply first.

"Ummm... Alright I guess. We haven't been running for our lives recently," I said cautiously.

Yeah, my life was alright for someone who had just been torn in two, but I didn't want to tell Jeb that. I wasn't going to tell him how I 'felt'. I had a hard enough time telling people I _really _trusted that.

"Look, Max," he began, "I know you may not want to hear this right now, but..."

Here it comes. Dylan's back. Well, I didn't really mind. If Fang had _really _left, I think we may need another flock member. Not as a replacement of course. Even Fang had said he belonged with us in the note draft. The note he left before he tore out my heart. I heard footsteps coming up to the door. Were Gazzy and Iggy sent home? I listened again. No, it wasn't them, although I could almost guarantee their return before the end of the day.

I ran towards the door. Jeb's face lit up a bit. I grabbed the handle and opened the door. There, in front of be stood a burnt-looking bird boy Dylan.


	6. Chapter 6

NOTE: I wanted to just put this chapter up today. Sorry it's short, but you'll get an explanation with the next chapter.

I stared in horror at this sight. This was the mutant bird kid I may have even found the slightest bit attractive. That was all gone now. Large patched of his skin were burnt, the colour of charcoal. Clumps of his hair were missing, probably fallen out. Someone had obviously attacked him: It wasn't like he would do this to himself. Would he do this?

We stared into each other's eyes, wondering what had been going on in each other's lives. I guess we both looked like complete messes, what with my tangled hair, bags under my eyes and not to mention how I had started to shake then, as if I was unstable. I guess he hadn't heard of Fang's departure.

"Dylan! What happened?" Jeb bet me to the question.

I thought that he had organised this. It was surprising to see him shocked over seeing Dylan in this state. I was sure he would've known.

"You mean in the past two weeks?" Dylan questioned, "A lot can happen if you haven't seen someone in that long.

So apparently, they had met about coming back, but Jeb was practically clueless about everything else. What HAD happened to Dylan?


	7. Chapter 7

_2 weeks earlier _

Dylan had been wandering the streets or Southern California for several weeks; he really hadn't been keeping count. _Why am I not dead? _He kept thinking to himself. _I should be dead. Fang died. Why didn't I die? Do I really have no one else like me in the world?_

He had been kicking a pebble on the ground for the past half an hour. It had started to rain, but he really didn't care. He somewhat enjoyed feeling the gentle drops land on his skin. It made him forget about everything bad in the world. It made him forget the mission he was burdened with: _to save the world._ He continued walking. He just wanted to know, where did he really belong? He knew _some _people wanted him out of the flock, but now he realised he was not one of them. He wasn't created in the same way. He was just another outsider.

"Hey! You! Stop messing with my iPhone!" he heard from behind him.

Dylan turned around and made a look indicating confusion. He didn't have the faintest idea of what an iPhone was. Well, he managed to recognise the 'phone' part. Dylan drew his gaze upon a small device in the man's hand. He recognised that it said 'iPhone'.

"Um..." was all that managed to escape his lips before the man spoke.  
"Hey! Aren't you with those bird kids?" the man asked.  
"Kind of..." he replied unsurely.  
"Is it kind of your thing to mess with electronics unintentionally?"  
"I don't think so"  
"The leader girl did that too and was saying something about a chip. I still can't explain it"

The chip: The chip that Max had gotten removed.

"Should you really be getting that wet?" he asked, aware of the rain again.  
"Ahhh!" the man yelped, "I'd better find somewhere that isn't showering me with water."

With that, the man got up and ran to the entrance of a coffee shop nearby. He turned to face Dylan again from the door.

"You should go and find them," the man half yelled, not that Dylan really needed the yelling.

Dylan continued walking, contemplating his next move. Where was he supposed to be in the world? How could he save it? Should he rejoin the flock? Could they help him? Did he have a chip in him? What was it doing to him? Could he stop it? Should he see someone?

He at least knew the answer to the last question. He knew he needed to find only one person. Jeb Batchendler.


	8. Chapter 8

Dylan was sitting in an internet cafe. Google had just finished loading. He slowly began typing something. _Jeb Bachendler. _The results loaded on the page and gave the suggestion 'Did you mean _Jeb __**Batchendler?**_'. After he had skimmed through the results, he found a website, supposedly Jeb's owned. What would Jeb need his own website for?

Dylan looked and found a link that said 'contact me'. This lead to a form asking for his name and email. _Email? _He thought. He didn't have an email address; he wasn't even technically a year old! He didn't want to bother with one now. He just needed to talk to him.

Name (required): Dylan  
Email (required):   
Subject: This is from Dylan. I need your help

Message:  
Jeb, this is Dylan. I'm in an internet cafe. I think I'm in LA again. I need to talk to you. I need help and I think I need it from you. Can you meet me by the Hollywood sign (on that hill if you can. I'm sure I'll see you anyway if you can't).

Dylan.

With that, Dylan left the shop and took off, his inexperienced wings working hard to keep him up. He had to wait there, in case.


	9. Chapter 9

Dylan was sitting there, by the Hollywood sign on those hills. Why had he picked this? He wasn't sure, but it was the only place he could think of to meet (Note: This is also true for me). He looked at the sky. It was the late in the evening. Dinner had been a few hours ago. By dinner, he was referring to the two unfinished donuts and a hotdog that fell on the ground he had managed to salvage. He decided it was worth getting some sleep in the meantime. Who knew when Jeb would arrive or IF he would arrive? Who knew when his next meal was going to be? Worried thoughts and questions consumed his mind until he was finally able to rest.

That night, he had a dream. He dreamt he was trying to run out of a forest, but no matter how many ways he turned, the maze of identical trees never ended. He needed to get out and do something. He couldn't stay in there forever. He looked down and then saw the ground. It was moving beneath his feat, as if it were a treadmill. Even with his greatest attempts, he was unable to even move. Everything around him knew what to do and could change: everything except him. He was confused. He didn't know his next move. He was trapped. All he knew was that he needed to get out.

Note: Dylan's story will be a series of short chapters


	10. Chapter 10

Dylan woke with a start. The first thing he saw was the sun in the sky, indication that it was around 9am. Then, he realised that he was being shaken awake by none other than Jeb Batchendler.

"Jeb," was all that managed to escape his lips.

He was much too tired to think, so he just stared. Would this man really be able to help him? He thought back to the dream he remembered snippets of. He could remember the confusion he felt, the world changing around him, his hopelessness. He looked around him, trying to remember where he was. He noticed a large Hollywood sign behind him. _Oh, right. I asked Jeb to come here _he thought.

"Hello Dylan," Jeb greeted grinning as if he was the answer to his problems. Of course, it was supposed to be the reverse.

"Jeb, I need your help. I don't know what to do next," Dylan told him.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Jeb asked.

"I don't know. I don't know what's right for me. I've only been around for around 10 months. I have no-one here for me and for some reason, everyone was telling me to save the world!" Dylan ended up yelling.

Jeb looked at the boy sitting on the ground in front of him, head buried in his hands. There was nothing he could do to help this boy, this creation. He sighed and seated himself next to Dylan. Jeb only had one option at this point.

"Dylan, you can see things happening: things that happen far away, right?" Jeb asked.

Dylan simply nodded in response. _What a great ability to have _Jeb thought.

"Well, keep an eye on me. When you see me with the flock with me, go to them. I'll stay there until you come. Let's make it a surprise."

Dylan couldn't believe it. He could go back to the flock: the only place he felt as if he even remotely fit in.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's note: I'm sorry these few chapters haven't really been up to scratch, but I've been trying to get them done by the time school starts (in two days) with no preparation beforehand. I won't be able to update as much after this because of school.

Dylan continued living in a similar manner for the next thirteen days as he had for the last three months. Scavenging, eating, walking, flying, sleeping. This routine was quite monotonous, so he was very pleased when he saw Jeb stop by a door and knock to be answered Max, giving him a clearly unwelcoming look. He knew it was time.

Dylan didn't often fly long distances and knew hit flying need a lot of work, but he needed to go. He let the navigating system in his head simply guide him there. He was determined to get there. He estimated it would take around a full day to get there. He only stopped for brief rests and for small meals, several of which were barely enough to keep him up for an hour. He knew he could make that up later. His task he had to complete was to get to Jeb and the flock.

Dylan had been up for 10 hours flying, he knew he was almost there. He could feel it. He could feel the flock's presence, maybe just an hour away. However far away they were, they were closer now. Something then entered his raptor vision. What could it be? He dismissed it as just another bird.

As this bird got closer he noticed something. It was a hawk, like him. At least, like 2% of him. He admired it, observing how gracefully in manoeuvred through the skies, unlike him. For a few moments, he tried copying it, distracted with the imitation of these movements.

A few moments later, he looked back at where he thought the majestic bird was, but it had disappeared. Then, he heard something behind him. Something that sounded familiar. Something like... a robot!

Dylan turned around. There he saw a hawk and a net, chasing him. He began plummeting to his doom.


End file.
